Inauguration Day

I went back to Iowa about three weeks ago for my/our annual trip to the Drake Relays. We stayed with my mom, who lives in suburban Des Moines. She and her husband have a nice house in a nice neighborhood with a nice, fenced-in yard. I was out in the yard one night with our kids playing kickball and they were having a great time. Our dog was happily off in the corner of the yard, panting, observing, and clearly quite content. It was a scene that reminded me of why people choose live in the suburbs. Anne said later that, as she watched the kids playing in the back, she missed having a yard so much that it hurt. I felt the same way. During moments like these, of course, I ask myself, why again did we move into the city? I know, I know, it's the church thing, but still...

Monday was a day that reminded me of why we live in the city, specifically, why we live in Chicago. It was Mayor Emanuel's inauguration at Pritzker Pavilion and I'm a sucker for events like this. There were an estimated 7,500 people there with a lot of notable attendees: Vice President Biden; both U.S. Senators

from Illinois; numerous U.S. Reps; Pat Quinn, the Illinois governor; and others. The Chicago Children's Choir sang, there were elected officials being sworn in, a high-school student read a poem she wrote, and Mayor Emanuel, if course, gave his inaugural address. It was a chilly day in the 40s, but, I swear, when we stood there with the sun shining, the weather could not have been more perfect.

Events like these instill civic pride in me. There are lots of reasons to be cynical about them (and, indeed, one live blog was serving the cynicism deep-dish style). I'm sure there are more than a few aldermen who took their oaths of office who have some serious ethical issues. The praise of Mayor Daley (who, of course, was also there) was getting to be over the top. Emanuel has his issues, too (I didn't vote for him). But as I stood there, I couldn't fight the feeling (nor did I want to) of being hopeful and connected to all the people around me. I committed to praying for new mayor. I recommitted Urban Village's efforts to combating hunger in the city. I vowed to look for ways to do something rather than just give up or believe that nothing I do will make a difference.

Call me Pollyanna if you must, but I'll wear that label with pride.

Hoping it gets more crowded

There are a few times when I hope the location I'm at becomes more crowded. Church is one. And...the other would be...still thinking...not quite sure I can come up with another example. I know that businesses need to be busy in order to stay open, but I kind of like it when the movie theater, museum, and/or restaurant is empty. I want them to be busy, but not when I'm there. Which is crazy to say when you live in downtown Chicago.

But I'm sitting here in a local cafe in my neighborhood and it's an answer to prayer. I've been hoping for a place like this. The South Loop has a lot of chain stores. There's a huge Target, Home Depot, Whole Foods, and Jewel. There's a cramped Starbucks and a Potbelly's and a Subway and, of course, a Dunkin Donuts. But no local coffee shop/diner where I can hang out. Until now.

Donna's Cafe just opened a couple weeks ago and the people are simply fantastic. I ordered a tea and a cookie a half hour ago and as I was enjoying this, the woman at the counter said, "Pssst!" I looked up and she motioned for me to come to her. "I just took these out of the oven," she whispered, and she pushed another cookie toward me. A little later, another person came by and offered to refill my tea. This kind of hospitality is rare in these parts.

But I sit here alone. I want Donna's to stay open so, for her sake, I won't mind sitting in a crowded cafe.

Parsing Punctuation

My article for our e-newsletter this week:
Some people prefer periods. I don't have a problem with periods. When it comes to a person's faith life, periods are great. They make a statement, like, God loves you. Period. Jesus is God-in-the-flesh. Period. Some people, however, use periods exclusively. Everything they say about God ends in a period and there's no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Other people prefer question marks. I like question marks, too. They provoke conversation and can engender closer relationships. A couple of great questions from the Bible: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Who do people say that I am?

There's room for both in our faith (and I'd also throw in the exclamation point as in "We have seen the Lord!" after the resurrection of Jesus). It's a good thing when we can make definitive statements about our faith. It's also a good thing (and very Scriptural) to ask questions, too. We'll be doing a lot of questioning during this upcoming sermon series, but those questions are also backed up by periods. We believe that God wants a deeper relationship with all of us. Questions are a great way to get there. Period. Or, if the mood strikes you, exclamation point.

Chicago Experience of the Day
We have our staff meetings at the Chicago Cultural Center in the big room that acts as a meeting place for lots of different folks. During one meeting we had yesterday, as dozens of people were huddled over computers and coffee cups, these two young women were rehearsing the Alleluia Chorus complete with hand and arm motions, like a combination of a concert and swing choir.

Chicago experiences

Chicago Experience of the Day 1

I ate at Lou Mitchell's yesterday for the first time in at least 10 years. LM is an institution in Chicago, located on Jackson, which used to be known as the beginning of Route 66. For some reason, my memory of it wasn't great, but I was pleasantly surprised yesterday. I went for the basics--bacon and eggs--but the service, presentation, and quality were all better than I expected. I even ate the prune that they give everyone. Interestingly, they also had NIV New Testaments at the cash register. I asked about them and the cashier said simply, "Those are from the owner. She goes to Moody." Doesn't hurt to ask.

Chicago Experience of the Day 2

I was walking home down Plymouth and came passed a town home with a sign that said "Candy Cane Lane." Not unusual, but as I went passed, I noticed that there was a tin hanging outside the home's gate with a bunch of candy canes in them. Free candy canes? I took one. My wife wondered if they were really meant for people walking down the sidewalk, but if it seems like an act of hospitality and neighborliness, I'm receiving it.